


Too Intoxicated to be Scared

by rosydream



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Fix-It of Sorts, Food Poisoning, Irondad, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Reckless Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Underage Drinking, aunt may is precious, but not really focused on that, idk how to tag pls send help, reckless drinking, spideyson, tony stark loves peter parker like his own son, trigger warning??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 11:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20025343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosydream/pseuds/rosydream
Summary: the one in which tony helps peter through two oddly similar situations





	Too Intoxicated to be Scared

**Author's Note:**

> warning: this was edited by a hungover me at 6:30 am. 
> 
> if you or anyone you know is struggling with an addiction to alcohol (or any sort of addiction) please reach out. you are not alone and you deserve health, help, and happiness. i love and support you all xx
> 
> title is from xanny by billie eilish in case ya didn’t know.

Peter hadn’t necessarily  _meant_ for this to happen. He really hadn’t. 

He had been on his bed, reading a book about astrophysics of all things, when his aunt May knocked on his door. 

“Peter, sweetie?” She asked to get his attention.

“Yeah May?” He said in a slightly bored tone, paying more attention to an interesting paragraph regarding the late Stephen Hawking.

“Can I come in?” 

Peter let out a ‘yep’ in conformation and she opened the door smiling. She was wearing a rather nice dress and her hair was in a braid. 

“I’m going out with Isla from work, and then I’m staying the night at her place. there’s food in the fridge for when you get hungry. is that all right with you?”

Peter looked up from his book again and rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s okay, Aunt May. You know I just want you to be happy. Besides, I’m seventeen years old. I think you can trust me to take care of myself by now.” 

May smiled as she stepped forward, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Aw, baby thinks he’s all grown up now,” She laughed.

“I know you’re responsible Peter, I just don’t like leaving you alone. Especially when I just got you back, what? A little less than a year ago? I know it may’ve seemed like a short time to you, but five years without you really took a toll on me. Do you see these gray hairs?” May joked, holding up her braid.

“May,” Peter started, the corners of his lips twitching upward, “I’m pretty sure those gray hairs were there way before I was gone.” By now a full smile had broken out onto Peter’s face.

May playfully (and lightly) slapped her nephew’s right arm, sending him a death glare before hugging him. “Don’t miss me too much, okay?”

Peter rolled his eyes for a second time, making him seem a lot like the seventeen year old he claimed to be, no matter what his birth year said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Don’t want you getting more gray hairs or you’ll end up like Tony.” They both laughed at that.

“Speaking of Tony, call him if you need anything. And I mean absolutely anything!” May shouted a bit as she left her nephew’s room.

“Will do May, will do.” He sighed, returning his focus onto Stephen Hawking.

Not even five minutes later a quiet, almost embarrassed call came from elsewhere in the apartment.

“Pete?” 

Peter lazily shifted his gaze upward from his book.

“Yes May?”

He heard a sigh and some shuffling.

“You wouldn’t have happened to have seen my keys lying around would you’ve?” 

Peter lightly laughed to himself. 

“On the table by the couch, May.” 

He hear more shuffling before he heard keys rattling. 

“Thanks Peter! Larb you!” May said, shutting the door after Peter confirmed that he ‘larbed her’ as well. 

May had been gone a short thirty minutes before the idea popped into Peter’s head. It wasn’t like he was desperate or needed to try it, but he figured it was a good idea. For science. At least, that’s what he told himself. You see , Peter Parker cannot get drunk. 

Or, at least he couldn’t off of a few cans of beer, which he had tried when he first returned from the snap. That had been his lowest point. Between returning from the soul stone and not knowing if Tony would wake up from the coma the snap put him in— it was too much for Peter to become adjusted to. He figured that, if anything, alcohol might help him ease into his old, yet new, life.

As it turns out, his spider-metabolism means he cannot get drunk off of at least five cans of beer, the most he had ever tried in fear that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. But, Peter was determined to figure it out. If Steve Rogers and Thor can both get drunk, who’s to say Peter couldn’t as well. (He learned this fact about a month ago when Tony invited all of the original Avengers over for Peter to meet. Well, all except Clint Barton, who had died on Vormir in exchange for the soul stone.) Peter’s metabolism wasn’t much faster than Steve’s, meaning that he was surely able to get drunk. 

May wasn’t an alcoholic— she barely even drank alcohol when she was at home, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t have it stocked, and luckily for Peter, she keeps track of it just about as well as she keeps track of her keys. So, Peter put down his  <strike>not</strike> very interesting book in his quest to get drunk, or at least a little bit inebriated. 

He started out with something he had tried once before at Ned’s house when they were fourteen, just a few weeks before he became Spider-Man. They had made lemonade, and when Mr. and Mrs. Leed’s weren’t paying attention, they slipped two shots of rum into their ‘harmless’ lemonade. It had surprisingly tasted good, and Peter did end up getting pretty buzzed from it. 

Now that he was a little older, Peter knew he should probably be drinking a little bit faster for him to actually get drunk, so he ditched the rum and lemonade for a shot of vodka, which tasted absolutely terrible, and it burned.

‘How did Tony drink this stuff everyday when he was young?’  Peter thought to himself, disgusted at both the drink and himself as he brought up Tony’s alcoholism. 

He took two more shots, despite the burning. (It took at least fifteen minutes, but that’s not important)

He then moved on to beer, figuring that he would only need to drink about seven to actually get drunk. it had only been exactly thirty-two minutes since he began his ‘experiment’, so he knew he still had plenty of time. After downing four beers as quickly as possible, it had only been a little over an hour since he started his alcoholic escapade. By this point, Peter was hungry. In fact, hungry wasn’t even the right word for it, he was ravenous. 

Moving off of the couch and into the kitchen was a little difficult. He was maybe a little more than tipsy at this point, as his balance was not all the way there. Once he was in the kitchen, he found himself face to face with a store-bought angel food cake that was resting on the counter. Upon further inspection, Peter found that the cake was five days past the expiration date. Now, usually, Peter would have stuck his nose up at the cake and thrown it away, but his mind was foggy and the cake looked good, so his best judgement was lost in the fog. He also couldn’t exactly remember what the word ‘expiration’ meant in his drunken daze. 

The teen opened up the container, grabbed a butter knife, and cut and small piece of cake for himself. Placing it on a plate, Peter stuck it in the microwave for ten seconds before taking it out and eating it with a spoon. It tasted oddly better paired with a can of beer.

By this point, Peter knew he had achieved his goal. His mind was completely foggy and he felt  _giggly_.  The cat, Shenzi, which May had found abandoned during the snap, was currently trying to climb up his scratching post, and while Peter’s subconscious was telling him that it wasn’t that funny, Peter was quickly buckled over with laughter. Once Shenzi made her way up to the top, Peter let out one last wheeze before moving onto his sixth can of beer. 

It had now been an hour and forty-five minutes, a little more that a half an hour since he ate the cake, and Peter was feeling sick. He took his can of beer with him into the bathroom, and barely lifted the lid before he threw up all over the toilet. He stayed on the ground, scared that if he moved he would throw up more. He reached up for the beer he had placed on the counter and took a swig of it, hoping in his dazed state that it would settle his stomach. It didn’t. He laid on the floor for a few more minutes (until he was out of beer) before he stumbled back into the living room, grabbing what he claimed to be his last beer on the way.

Peter knew he wasn’t being responsible. He knew that he was probably a little more drunk than he should be at the moment, but Peter felt  _good_. His mind was clear of his usual troubles, and his body no longer felt riddling with its common anxieties. Peter felt free. That is, until he heard a knock at the door (which probably scared him a little  _too_ much.) 

Peter stumbled to his feet to survey if he could just plop back down onto the couch and ignore whomever it might be. The spider prayed to every god that he knew that it wasn’t Aunt May. He knew nothing good would come out of a situation in which Aunt May would find him severely intoxicated in her living room after a mere two hours of being unsupervised.

When Peter had enough balance to stand on his toes, he peeked through the peephole on the door. The good news was that it wasn’t his Aunt May. The bad news was that it was someone much, much worse. The person outside of his door was none other than Tony Stark himself.

Peter winced to himself, but giggled nonetheless.

“uh oh.” He said aloud before giggling to himself again.

“Peter. I know you’re in there; I can hear you giggling.” Tony said in his impatient dad voice. Peter snickered again before getting an idea.

“Peter. I knowww you’re’re in thereee!” Peter mocked in a deep voice, stumbling on and exaggerating his words not so subtly.

“Peter?” Tony sounded even more pissed than before.

Peter stopped his giggling before fumbling to unlock the apartment’s front door.

“Sorry, Mr. Man, no, Mr. Sir, er, Mr. Iron Stark, sir.” Peter tried very obviously to correct himself only to make it worse. He giggled again.

“Peter are you drunk?” Tony interrogated in the most stern voice he could muster.

The hero really wanted to be upset, but Peter made an adorable drunk. His eyes were slightly shut and his hair was messy, curly, and falling on his face. His cheeks were reddened and he had a slight smile ever-present on his lips.

“drunk? me? noooo!! you are one that’s drinked! hehe ‘m only sebenteem, you silly man. i can’ get drunked!”

Peter was highly enthused by the situation, snickering at every possibly moment.

“Peter. how much have you had to drink?”

Tony forced himself to remain calm although he was truly panicking.

Peter’s metabolism likely requires a lot of alcohol to get even the slightest bit tipsy. Him being this far gone means he would’ve had to have had past the fatal amount for a regular human.

“Oh,” Peter said, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“well, I’ve hadeded ocho,”

another giggle.

“bears. no. beers. anddd I had,”

he held up four fingers.

“vodka thingys or maybe only,”

he held up three fingers.

“but I alsooo had lemononade with ichi,”

another giggle.

“rum. that’s it it, i think?”

Tony looked scared.

“What to you mean by vodka thingies? And what do you mean by two rums?”

Tony was starting to panic at this point, unaware of if he needed to rush Peter to the tower immediately.

“Lil cups?” Peter shrugged, unsure of himself, pointing to a shot glass.

“Four shots of vodka?” Tony’s concern bled into the question.

“tWO shots of voodka!” Peter grinned dopily, always happy to quote a Vine.

Peter then began to stand on his tip toes, holding his hand out on top of his head to see if he was taller than his mentor.

“uh oh tiny Tony!” Peter said before shuffling toward the bathroom.

Tony, confused as ever, “What’s the matter, buddy?”

Peter just looked at him before there was vomit flowing out of his mouth. Once it stopped, Tony dragged him into the bathroom, leaning him over the toilet bowl. Peter puked again, mainly a brownish clear liquid.

“It’s alright Pete, just let it all out.” Tony swept the boys bangs out of his face so he wouldn’t get his puke in them.

“Stupid cake angel!” Peter shouted at the door.

“What Peter?” Tony, quite frankly, was unsure of what was happening.

“I ated food angel cake in the cooking room ‘n it had bad date on it.” Peter pouted at Tony.

“Aw I’m sorry kid. Stay here for a minute?” Peter pouted again but nodded his head in affirmation.

Tony walked into the kitchen to see what Peter had been talking about. There was a half eaten angel food cake on the counter with an expiration date of March the twenty-third and it was currently the twenty-eighth. Tony picked it up and placed it into the trash can before getting water for the retching teen in the other room.

Peter slowly sipped the water before handing it back to Tony.

“Are you ma-mad at me?” Peter was on the verge of tears.

“No, kid, I’m not mad.”

Tony supposed it was true, that wouldn’t be the word he’d use to describe his feelings at the moment. He didn’t want to sound like a parent, but disappointed was more the word he was thinking. Nevertheless, he was also furious. Furious because he knew what it was like to be young and drunk, and he just hoped, with every fibre of his being that Peter wouldn’t turn out like he did.

No, with Peter it would be different. Peter has people looking out for him and making sure he doesn’t do that to himself, sone thing Tony never had. 

“Do you think you’re going to throw up again Pete?”

Tony asked as kindly as possibly. Peter shook his head, so after a couple more minutes Tony helped him up and into his room.

The man grabbed a few extra bags to put into Peter’s trashcan incase he actually did need to throw up again, before settling him into his bed.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning kid.” Tony sighed before turning around.

“Please don’t leave.” It was the first coherent thing the kid had said since he’d arrived.

“I’m not leaving you Pete.” and he wasn’t— he was getting a blanket and pillow from the closet so he could sleep on the big chair in the corner of Peter’s room.

Peter smiled lopsided.

“Thank you. You’re’re the bestest dad ever.”

His smile was genuine, as were the words leaving it. Tony felt his heart skip a beat as his breath caught in his throat. He waited a bit before replying a composed, “Thank you, Peter.” but if that knocked the breath out of him, it was nothing compared to what Peter said next.

“No problemo Mr. Tony Dad sir. I love you.”

Peter held his arms out and squeezed his fingers into fists twice, motioning that he wanted a hug. Tony stood, stunned for a second before a whine from the boy in front of him jogged him back to reality. He slowly walked over to his Spider-ling before hugging him back.

“I love you too kid. I love you too.” Peter giggled before he mumbled something that was too muffled for Tony to fully hear, but he understood anyways.

“This is all’ve da proof I neededed to said that Tiny Tony has a heart.”

Tony couldn’t help but smile at this as Peter yawned and shut his eyes, locking Tony into his arms.

“Alright kid, but if I’m staying in the same bed you gotta scoot over. I know you finally got rid of that twin bed, but I still need my space.” Peter smiled in his ‘sleep’ before scooting to his left, allowing Tony enough room to lay down.

Tony took one look at the space and the teen still wrapped around his arm before sighing a “You’re lucky that I love you, kid.” and crawling into the bed.

“Love you too, dad.” And if Peter slept through the night without a single nightmare of the soul stone, and if Tony slept through the night without a single nightmare of losing his kid, well, that was for them to know.

**Author's Note:**

> so, yesterday i got drunk and ate expired angel food cake, which in turn gave me food poisoning. i did this because i’m of above average intelligence and thought ‘oh this is only a week out of date. how bad could it be?’ the answer, my dear friends, is very, very bad. in turn, i decided to write a fanfic about it, as i do with most life experiences. and if there are any fuckin cops reading this... i am.. definitely.. of legal age.. to consume alcohol. thanks. 
> 
> p.s. please drink responsibly. please do not drink and drive. please do not leave your drinks unattended. please do not drink more than you can handle. and please, if you’re going to drink underage, make sure you do it at home or with someone responsible. there are so many bad things that can happen while you’re intoxicated.  
if you or anyone you know may be suffering with alcoholism you can call (844) 298-0879 (if you’re in the US)
> 
> alright. ily guys. please feel free to point out any typo’s. and any and all feedback is appreciated :) xx


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